Well, This is New Wait, No It Isn't
by Black Stormraven
Summary: Tie-in to my other fic "Eye of the Storm", this time from the Doctor's side. He muses about the time he spent with Martha and calls her mother  you know that won't end well xD . Mentions of Jack, too.


**Note: **Well, heck. I said I wasn't going to do anything else with "Eye of the Storm", yet here this is! This is more of a tie-in than a continuation, though. Hooray for me! Oh, and I'll give cookies to anyone who can tell me what stand-up comic I kinda stole a line from in here when Jack is mentioned ;) –totters away-

Most people go their whole lives with only a few regrets. Mostly little things: should have applied for that job. Should have apologized after that fight. Shouldn't have drank so much that New Year's Eve. Should have taken a trip to Tahiti after all. Should have studied harder for that exam. Of course, that was for an average Joe with only eighty, maybe ninety years to live. A Time Lord's regrets ran deeper and cut far worse.

The Doctor had lost people before, even caused some of their deaths in one way or another. The last person to leave him had done so unwillingly, snatched away to a parallel universe right out of his grasp. He'd mourned her, grieved for what he'd lost and the pain he'd caused her. He still recounted that dreadful day numerous times, hour after hour, day after day. He thought of every possible thing he could have done differently, even resisted the temptation to avert it altogether. And then he'd remember that she wasn't dead. She was alive and well, living a nice, happy life with his doppelganger in Pete's World.

But then _she _came. Miss Martha Jones, medical student. When he first laid eyes on her in Royal Hope he had known she was something extraordinary. He didn't regret inviting her to travel with him, no, not at all. He did regret the way he seemed almost angry at her as they sped across the universe. But it wasn't directed at her; he knew that now. He was angry with himself, angry that he found himself so charmed by her, so entranced by the tiniest little things she did. It made him feel like he was betraying Rose so soon after her disappearance. It made him cold to her. He met her warmth and compassion and affection with ice and rudeness. And then she left. He should have expected it, but it didn't make it hurt any less.

He'd noticed so much about her, ignored his own attachment to her, pushed her away when she grew too bold, allowed himself to hug her only when her guard was down and there was too much going on to linger on it. So why did he only just now notice how many times in their travels she'd had chances to be happy?

Ah, jealousy. The beast once again reared its ugly head within him as he thought back. It clawed at his skull as he recalled their first trip, when Shakespeare himself was so obviously smitten with her, this "queen of Afric". He'd even made her his Dark Lady, made her famous for centuries to come. Jealousy gnawed at his hearts and burned in his gut at the memory of Frank. Sweet, young Frank of 1930 New York. '_Stick close to me,'_ he'd told her in the sewers. '_I won't let anything happen to ya.'_ And he'd said nothing. In truth, he'd been overcome with the urge to pull her closer to him and away from the boy. But he didn't. He'd stomped the urge down, focusing on the mission at hand. Lazarus' slimy lips on her hand had made him almost want to kill the man. Only sheer willpower and the disgusted look on her face stayed him. Then came the image of Riley Vashtee…and the sight of her kissing _him._ What had that _boy_ done to deserve the gift of her kiss? He'd had to turn away into the TARDIS to keep his hands steady, keep them from wrapping around the boy's neck. It wasn't until Jack had decided to tag along to the end of the universe that he realized just how close he'd secretly allowed himself to get to her. It wasn't so much Jack's come-on to her the second he woke from death; he'd come to expect that by now with anything with a pulse. What really dug into his chest was her reaction. _'I don't mind!'_ she'd said, a glowing smile on her face. Well, she should have minded! This was Jack Harkness, the man who would try to snog a couch if the pillows were fluffy enough!

But….why? Why _should _she have minded having that kind of attention? She certainly didn't get it from him. Any woman would be mad to rebuke the dashing Captain Jack at such an innocent appraisal of her beauty. Besides, what had he, the Doctor, ever done to earn her smile, her touch, her kiss? Oh, she liked him, yes. Perhaps she loved him. But why? What did she see in him? She literally had men falling for her across centuries and solar systems. Everywhere she went another one fell prey to her. And yet she ignored them all. She turned them all down and returned to his side, all smiles and bright eyes. _Why?_ Why did she keep sacrificing her happiness for him? Why did she keep hoping for him to wise up and tell her what she wanted…deserved to hear? He was too old, too deep in grief still over Rose to let himself love her.

And yet…yet…he didn't even know how to finish that thought. When he lost Rose, the TARDIS just felt so empty. He was sure it would never feel lonelier than then, even as he knew companions would continue to come and go. But he was proven wrong when Martha left. He knew she'd wanted so much to stay, but she was right: she deserved better treatment than he'd given her. If their places had been switched he would have left long ago. He marveled at the strength she possessed to endure him and his coldness for so long.

The Doctor reflected on everything about Martha, mostly how effortless it was for every man she met to crumble at her feet. He was only vaguely aware that her mobile now rested in his hands. He'd taken to holding it every now and then, as if it brought him closer to her. His fingers itched to press the buttons and call her, aching to hear her voice again. Until he realized she hadn't given him her new number. He groaned aloud as he remembered that little obstacle.

He should put the phone down, walk out of the room, and forget it even existed. _Not bloody likely,_ his mind sneered. _Just admit you miss her, 'Time Lord'_. He didn't appreciate how his own inner voice stressed his species name like that. It was right, though. No denying that. However, how could he just burst into her life again like nothing had happened, and without a warning to boot? She'd probably already moved on by now, found herself a good bloke (he fought down the green-eyed beast once again at the mere thought of another man in her life), settled into her medical career, all-in-all being perfectly happy. But still…

Out of curiosity, he flipped open the mobile and started scrolling through her contacts. He wasn't overly surprised at how few there were. Leo, Tish, Dad, Mum, Jack (the Doctor smirked to himself at seeing how Jack was listed as "Insufferable Git"), Royal Hope…wait. Francine. A thought came to him: Francine no longer looked on him as a threat. Not exactly as a friend either, but they were able to have their last conversation without much fuss (and the happy absence of any slaps). Maybe he could ask her about Martha. He'd have to be delicate, of course. Not say anything to give her the wrong impression. Remain very calm and composed.

The Doctor grinned as he pressed the green button over Francine's number and tried not to pace as it rang once. Twice. Three times. _Oh, do come on!_ The fourth ring was cut short as the other end was picked up. "Hello?" came Francine's voice.

"Francine! Where's Martha? How is she? Is she there? What has she been up to lately?" His inner voice banged its head on a wall at his outburst. Was it really that hard to focus and control himself?

"Wha-Doctor? What do you mean 'where's Martha'? What have you done now? I swear to God, if you've kidnapped her again…"

He didn't particularly want to hear just what she would do to him lest she make good on her sure-to-be-graphic threats. "Sorry, sorry. Let me start again. Hello, Mrs. Jones. How are you doing on this fine, bright, sunny day?"

A pause. "It's raining."

"Oh." Another pause. "That's nice."

"It's miserable."

"Oh."

Well, this was going swimmingly. "Doctor, what is this about? Why are you asking about Martha?"

He exhaled deeply. "Well, she left me her mobile and forgot to give me her new number as well. I just wanted to check in and see how she was doing."

Francine chuckled, not unkindly. "Doctor, there are two things I must point out to you: one, you could very easily stop by her flat if you were that concerned. Two, are you so sure she really did _forget _to give you her number? Did it ever cross your mind that maybe she doesn't want you to know it until she's ready?"

He winced at that. "And there're two things wrong with you two things, Mrs. Jones: one, I'm trying my best to not drop by without at least a warning first. It's not fair to her now."

She must have noticed his pause as he tried to pull his thoughts together. "And the second thing?" Maybe it was his imagination, but her tone sounded softer.

"I try not to think about that possibility, Francine." The thought had always been in the back of his mind, always pricking at his consciousness whenever he thought of her and that awful day when she walked away. He wouldn't blame her if she had intentionally not told him her number out of spite, but something niggled at the notion. She wouldn't do something like that. If she hadn't wanted him to be able to call her without waiting for her to make the call first, she would have told him to his face. She wouldn't make him go through this kind of torture. It wasn't in her nature to be vindictive like that. But it still ate at him regardless.

"Doctor? Is that a note of melancholy in your voice?" Francine teased.

He was sure she heard his long exhale as the truth stung him like a swarm of bees (nasty little blighters that they were). "No, no, no. Not melancholy. Closer to….regret, actually." There. He'd admitted it. Now that inner voice could sod off.

Francine's rustling on the other end stopped. She didn't speak for a few moments. He could imagine her trying to come to terms with his raw honesty; he couldn't quite believe it himself either. "Oh. Wishing you'd taken better care of her, then?" Her bitterness was back. Not that he blamed her; he couldn't say he didn't deserve it.

"Yeah, yeah." He took a couple deep breaths. "She told you about that, eh?"

He heard her sigh. "No, she didn't. She only told us how wonderful it was to travel with you, how fantastic you are. She told Tish the whole story later when she thought no one else was awake; I overheard them talking one night. Doctor. You really hurt her." Her voice was now tinged with tears for her daughter. "She told Tish everything about…well, everything! Especially those two months you were in hiding in 1913. You made her your _servant_! She had to watch you fall in love with someone else, all while remaining silent to keep you safe! What made you think that she would have come away from that unscathed?"

The Doctor closed his eyes in an attempt to fend off the truth of her words. They weren't accusatory (in the beginning, at least), just facts. Knowing that didn't make the hurt go away any quicker, though. "I know. It just took me a while to figure it out."

"Two years?" She sounded downright angry now. "Two years, Doctor! My little girl adored you, God knows why. She walked the world for you. She risked her life for you everyday she was with you, and even on the days you weren't there. And when she came home, whenever she talked about you…she glowed. She just glowed. Her eyes would light up and she would smile so sweetly at the mere mention of you. She never smiled like that about anyone, Doctor. _Never!_" She took a breath. "I still don't understand her infatuation with you, but I couldn't crush that smile of hers. I'd never seen her so happy. So I left it alone. For her sake.

"But then I heard her tell Tish the other half of the story. She said how you'd kissed her on the moon, saying how it 'meant nothing' but certainly felt like something to her. She said how even though you seemed to like her you never noticed she was there. You always made her feel insignificant to Rose, whoever that is, always crushed her heart when she held it in her hands for you to take as you pleased. Tish kept interrupting then, saying how horrible you were to treat her like that, but Martha always defended you. Not once was she angry with you; I don't know why, but that's her choice. She was…" -he knew she was searching for the right word- "…disappointed with herself, allowing herself to fall for you. And she fell, indeed, Doctor. She fell hard and there was no one to catch her." Francine sighed even heavier. He still hadn't said anything. What _could _he say? "Doctor?" Still nothing. "Doctor, are you there?"

He ran a hand over his face and groaned in frustration. "Urgh, yeah. Yeah, I'm here, Francine." He had known that this conversation wasn't going to be easy, but it was still hard to have those truths thrown so bluntly at him.

"Well? Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"What do you want me to say?"

He almost smiled listening to her sputter in an attempt to form words. "I want you to say that you're a damn fool for not realizing what a treasure my daughter is. How many chances you took from her to be happy with a nice boy by letting her grow so close to you."

"Okay. I'm a damn fool for not realizing what a treasure your daughter is and taking away her chances to be happy with a nice boy by letting her grow so close to me." He meant every word, the sincerity pouring from him without control. He felt relieved at finally admitting his idiocy, especially to Francine. "Isn't that just typical? Never know what you have until it's gone, never know how much something means to you until it's walked away, and all that. Took me this long to realize I was jealous of every man she met when we travelled."

"How do you mean?"

He let out a harsh laugh at himself. "Oh, Mrs. Jones. Martha could have been happy in any time, any place." _Well, except for 1913, of course._ "Everywhere we went she seduced every man she came across with nothing more than a 'hello'. Did she tell you about Shakespeare? She only had to walk into the room and he was smitten." Another laugh, this one softer than the last. "Everyone else worshipped the ground she walked on, but she never looked twice at them. Well, except for when she kissed Riley Vashtee on the _Pentallion_, but I think that was more out of relief than much else, not that I fully get that because you know you humans never make much sense anyway…"

"Doctor." Her stern tone quickly shut him up.

"Sorry. Yeah, she made everyone love her just by _being_. And it took me this long to follow the crowd, as it were."

"Doctor, do you love her?"

Such a simple yes-or-no question. It was always those types that seemed to be the hardest to answer, however. He ran a hand through his hair as he tried to figure it out. Francine was silent for the moment. He was thankful she was patiently letting him work this out. After what could have been hours, but was in reality probably only minutes, he finally sighed (he was doing that a lot today and he didn't much care for it). "I'm not sure, Francine. But I miss the sound of her voice. I just want to talk to her again." And he also didn't care for sounding like a child. Was this what humans did when they dealt with whatever this was?

He heard Francine take a breath then release it. He prepared himself for another tongue-lashing. "Go see her, Doctor." Well, that was…not what he was expecting.

A nervous laugh escaped his lips as he fiddled with his tie. "I'm sorry, Francine. Something must have interfered with the phone signal. I thought you just said 'go see her'."

"Doctor." Yes, she was definitely Martha's mother. Only those two could shut him up with a single word. "Go to her. I think, and I can't believe I'm saying this, that she needs you right now. She's like a ghost; it's like she just goes through the motions with everything. Her heart's no longer in anything she does anymore, even her work. And I know for a fact that what she told Tish she really wants to say to you. She'll never admit it, of course, but it's what she needs. Go and talk to her. You'll both thank yourselves for it."

The Doctor couldn't speak, could barely register what she'd just said to him. The woman who upon their first meeting had immediately accused him of stealing her baby girl from her had just now ordered him to go see her. He'd always thought that she'd never trust him with anything, let alone anything regarding Martha, yet here she was giving him her blessing, stern as it was. He felt his admiration for her grow exponentially. "Oh, Mrs. Jones. Formidable, wonderful Mrs. Jones, you're a star."

"But know this," she interjected quickly. "If you hurt her again, if you say or do anything stupid, there will be no coming back from the hell I'll send you to. Am I clear?"

"One hundred percent crystal, ma'am." He made a face to himself at how much he sounded like Jack just then. "And Francine. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Doctor." Was that a smile he heard in her voice? "Now, off you get. She should be at home now." She hung up before he could reply, leaving him to his thoughts. It took him only seconds to make a decision.

Without even fully realizing what he was doing, he'd fired up the TARDIS, set the destination, and had his coat over his arm. Once at the door he took a moment to compose himself; he didn't want to panic her by rushing out and embracing her with all his strength (although part of him really wanted to do just that). He tried to not think about how she might react to seeing him again; it was one thing to imagine her being ecstatic and flying into his arms in happiness, but it was quite different to think of the more likely possibility that she might tell him to get out and leave him even more broken than he already was. He forcefully pushed all such thoughts from his mind. One deep breath and he took the plunge.

As the Doctor emerged from the TARDIS in the middle of her flat, he noticed the décor had changed slightly but was still unmistakably 'Martha'. He grinned as he saw the surprise on her face, obviously in the middle of making tea. He saw the thousands of thoughts running through her head as she stared at him, looking positively stunning all the same. He was quicker than her in expressing a thought first. He only hoped his voice was steady when he spoke. "Hi there."


End file.
